Until It Hurts
by Girl Of Hope
Summary: "You of all people should know people aren't black and white." She carefully unbuttoned his shirt, her fingertips grazing the skin on his chest. "Bad people can do good things and good people can be naughty in the right situations." Cross posted from AO3 Chapter one glitched, now updated.
1. Come Closer

Come Closer

Had everything frozen in place, or was he having a weird stroke?

Obi-Wan looked at his Commander, still unsure if he had heard him right.

"What?!" Obi-Wan exclaimed, grunting as Mace Windu roughly shoved him by the upper right arm into Windu's new office. The door slammed shut, the horrible sound of thin blinds hitting wood and glass was all that could be heard between the two men as Windu took a seat behind his expensive polished desk.

"You're going undercover for a year." Windu pulled out a drawer on his right, quickly mumbling something Obi-Wan couldn't understand before producing a cream coloured Manila folder and pushing it to the other man. "High level crime boss has been making the rounds all over Coruscant; it needs to end _now_."

Obi-Wan took the opportunity to finally look the contents of the folder. It was the fairly usual in these cases. Murder, unsolved cases, pivotal clues missing to solidly link anyone so no convictions stuck; boss is off to bigger and better things.

_Illegal strip clubs_.

"Can't he be shut down just for the clubs alone?"

"No," Windu folded his hands together on his desk, his eyebrows drawn together in thought. "Turns out deep pockets go a long way, Palpatine has his own vices, and a personal connection to our Boss, here."

"So, our _fearless_ Mayor is in bed with Dooku?"

"And probably not alone, either." Obi-Wan placed the documents back in order before looking up at Windu. "This is where you come in."

"Neither have met me, so I can sneak under the radar." Obi-Wan mused on the thought for a moment. He'd been in worse undercover missions, and this would probably end in a lot _less_ bullet holes in his body. "How should I handle this?"

"Indulge." Windu replied, as if the answer was obvious. "Find whoever has the most leverage and work your way up into Dooku's circle from there."

Obi-Wan failed to cover the laugh that escaped his lungs. "Anakin would _love_ this,"

"He wouldn't focus on the matter at hand." Windu almost looked straight through Obi-Wan, maybe looking to find the same flaws Obi-Wan's Rookie turned Partner showed despite his results. "He'd be too swept up."

"You make it sound like I'm celibate, or something, Mace." Obi-Wan mumbled in retort.

"No, you just have your head screwed onto your shoulders," Windu replied. "Plus, you are divorced, not as starry eyed as Skywalker."

Obi-Wan felt his toes curl in his boots at the mention of his divorce. Six months prior he had found his clothes at the base of the stairs to the front door, a sticky note taped to the front with the messily scraped fresh ink spelling 'Sorry'. His ex-wife Satine had apparently run in the arms of some big shot surfer, packed up all of Obi-Wan's belongings and changed all of the locks to their home. Needless to say, it was an embarrassing phone call to his father when he needed a place to crash until he could get somewhere else to stay.

Admittedly (and not readily talked about by Obi-Wan) it was nice to be back under the same roof as his father Qui-Gon after not visiting enough over three years or marriage and twelve years of being on the Force. The Bear hug Obi-Wan was pulled into was a bit too tight for the first few agonising seconds when there was no oxygen to inhale.

Obi-Wan had immediately signed the divorce papers the moment they were shoved under his nose, knowing full well he would never get his home back since it was a 'gift' from Satine's father when they were married. At least Obi-Wan had enough foresight to have a separate bank account, she couldn't touch his hard earned money. It had come in handy when after three weeks of searching, Obi-Wan had finally found a two bedroom apartment in the inner city of Coruscant that was close to the station he worked at.

Anakin had immediately taken up residence in the spare bedroom; the kid would have forced his way in, even if Obi-Wan hadn't made the suggestion. The pair couldn't be separated since Anakin had wormed his way into the family of two; Qui-Gon had scooped the boy of eight pretty much from the gutter. Obi-Wan had been eighteen at that time, slightly miffed he got a younger brother in an unceremonious and abrupt turn of events.

Anakin had done everything he could to follow in Obi-Wan's footsteps, minus moving from another country, that is. He always loved growing up in that home with the two men, ten year old Anakin would always attempt to emulate his brother voice. He was teased when Obi-Wan found out for a month.

"Haven't lost you already, have I?" Windu inquired, leaning forward slightly over his desk. Obi-Wan blinked twice and went to open his mouth before seeing his superior's face.

"You did tell me to indulge…" Obi-Wan quipped, earning a suppressed amused exhale.

"You can all you want when you're on assignment." Windu watched as Obi-Wan hauled a bag from the floor and carefully place the folder on top. "For now, focus on getting ready."

Obi-Wan nodded in agreement, taking his cue to leave the office; Windu had caught him at the end of his shift.

"You may want to get a haircut," Windu sounded amused him behind the back of Obi-Wan. "And maybe get rid of the beard."

_What?_

XXXX

"I know you didn't get a choice in this," Anakin finally started after Obi-Wan had told him of the new undercover assignment. "But you're ditching me, again."

"Seems like it, huh?" Obi-Wan said dejectedly

"Can we actually speak while you're gone, or will it be like last time?"

Obi-Wan hated his last undercover mission, he was completely transformed under hours worth of tattoos covering his skin, piercings adorning his face and no hair for six months. After all was said and done, he had walked out with several scars on his hands from knife games that never healed, four broken ribs, a fractured skulled which led to a severe concussion and half a dozen bullets in his limbs. The laser removal process for the tattoos had been the icing on the shitty cake. Anakin had appeared somewhat relieved when his brother had finished the run down.

"There's less chance of me getting hurt." Obi-Wan stared at the mug in his hands before taking a sip of his tea. "I've already got my disposable phone under my pseudonym."

Anakin took the sticky note with the new phone number, titling his head at the name above the digits.

"Ben Kenobi?" He read slowly, eyes narrowed. "Couldn't pick a better name?"

"Already used Jinn as a surname, can't repeat it." Ben was the usual go to for a first name, he'd need another family name if he was to ever do these assignments. "Would you rather I change it?"

"You just don't look like a Ben." Anakin made a mental note to store the phone number in a physical journal, a digital record was too risky, before the note was stuck onto a book Anakin had been trying to read.

"I might after the haircut and shave." Anakin's eyes raised to his brother's.

"But you can't shave, that beard is too… _you_." Anakin moved the right corner of his lip upward. "Though I agree with the haircut, shoulder length hair, not your best look."

"Bring the braid back?" Obi-Wan said jokingly. "We can match."

"We can make this a thing!" Anakin was being completely serious. Obi-Wan folded his arms in front of him and rested his forehead on them.

"I'm thirty, Anakin." He mumbled, head still down. "Couldn't pull it off even if I wanted to."

"You invented it!" Anakin retorted, glancing at the braid that hung down his right shoulder, onto his chest. "Might get you laid quicker."

"I really don't think it will." Obi-Wan huffed, downing the remainder of his tea. Anakin clearly wasn't happy about anything with the situation.

"It really will suck not having you here, you know?" He mumbled, staring down at his own mug. Anakin had already drained the contents.

"You'll find ways to occupy yourself." Anakin never ran out of things around their apartment to pull apart, fix or tamper with. As long as he didn't set fire to anything (which was far out of the realm of possibility with Anakin's care and skilfulness with electronics) Obi-Wan let Anakin do what he wanted with any technology.

"I really should start getting ready to leave." Obi-Wan rose from his chair, rinsed his mug in the sink in the kitchen and made his way upstairs to his bedroom. In three days, he'd be a shitty apartment supplied for the undercover operation, on his own living his new life.

Tomorrow he'd be getting his hair cut. Obi-Wan stood in front of the full length mirror in his bedroom, stroking his beard.

"Goodbye, my friend. See you in a year."


	2. Beautiful Lies

_**A.N. Got this done sooner than expected, guess that's a good thing! Yes, this is slightly a slightly slower start to my usual stuff, but it will pick up shortly. Need that slow burn to start! Thanks for all of the love and comments, keep letting me know what you all think of the direction.**_

Nothing stood out of place in the club, barring the very existence of the establishment, that is.

Okay, one thing stood out to Obi-Wan as he passed the bouncer and loud thumping music assaulted his ear. But it was _him_.

Why was Obi-Wan the only man dressed in a button down shirt and nice dark wash jeans? His briefing had even said it was the appropriate choice to wear.

The music grew louder and shouts and _whoops_ from some very drunk men near the centre stage had Obi-Wan focus on something other than this attire. He surveyed what could be seen in the main centre of the club. Red and black panels lined the walls, some slightly forward for a dramatic effect. The floor, shy of food, alcohol and…. whatever was in a messy puddle near a booth that was dimly lit, would have contrasted the brighter colours of the room, black slick marble that had its charm despite the messes and scratches on the surface.

The back half of the club was dedicated to a large stage, a small catwalk coming out and ending in a circle, a pole in the centre. The floor of the stage was a cleaner version of the main surface of the club, it shined brightly as lights of different from overhead moved rapidly. Several dimmed booths lined both walls of the club, some toward the stage looked to have curtains for privacy, but also had security guarding them. The room in the back left corner had briefly caught Obi-Wan's eye, assuming it was for the workers as a 'backstage' area and to have some privacy.

On the right hand side of where Obi-Wan stood, close to the entrance of the club was a long sleek black bar, complete with old fashioned red cushioned bar stools and passed out drunk men; a young girl, possibly no older than 23, was serving the patrons one by one, a patient smile or some quick witted jab and sneer on her face, depending on the customer. She was brunette, short, some print t-shirt that was cut up so much it was basically long strips of fabric tied securely at her back, navy bra that showed, a pair of black shorts that were almost a belt and knee high boots with no heels. Unlike most females in the club, she didn't wear fishnets.

He hadn't realised he had walked to the bar until he heard a voice behind him.

"What can I get you, handsome?" The young woman had asked, her eye moving up and down Obi-Wan with a smirk on her face. He suddenly felt exposed and warm.

"Whatever's on tap is fine." He responded smoothly, she replied with a wink as she swivelled on her heel, grabbing a beer glass during her spin. Obi-Wan blindly handed the girl his credit card behind his shoulder as she set his beer down.

"You picked a good night to come." The girl handed back his card, which open Obi-Wan shoved back into his small black leather wallet, giving the girl a questioning stare as he slid the wallet into his back right pocket.

"Why's that?" He may as well _try_ to enjoy himself. "Live band or something?"

"You get to see our star perform." The bartender looked dazzled for a moment before smirking at Obi-Wan. "Our Queen."

"Queen?" Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, taking a large mouthful of his beer and swallowing it. It was a heavy, strong taste that he couldn't shake. '_Maybe look at what they have, dumbass,'_ he thought, grimacing as he finished his beer in another few heavy gulps.

The bartender was still leaning near his left hand side when he finished his glass; she scooped it up in her hand and put it in a tub below the back of the bar with piles of other dirty glasses to be cleaned. Obi-Wan had decided to swivel his stool around to face her.

"Whiskey on the rocks." Obi-Wan bowed his head as he again pulled out his credit card from his wallet, offering to the bartender. He got his order with her eyes raking over him _again_. This girl probably didn't get he was too old for her.

"You always this friendly?" She asked mockingly, glancing at a patron who had slammed his fist on the bar a few seats down from where Obi-Wan was. She saw security was already on their way to escort the man out.

Obi-Wan stared at the floating ice in his drink, a playful retort on his tongue when he looked toward the stage area. Every note from the speakers around the bar, every inappropriate yell or conversation from people in the building were suddenly drowned out to be white noise; time had slowed to a standstill and suddenly no one was around him. He felt like some spotlight was directed on him as he took centre stage in some odd show; only one other person remained.

She held her head high, pointed chin at the right angle to look intimidating and alluring simultaneously, a flirtatious smile graced her full dark pink lips, never pulling over her teeth to expose any kindness. Her cheeks contrasted between her dark contouring and bright shimmering highlighter, balanced out with a very light touch of blush. The eye makeup didn't compare to her brown eyes, though the gold brought out tiny gold flecks in her eyes that made it hard to break contact. The tightly curled, long flowing, dark brown hair danced as she strutted, the ends seeming to bounce on her hips as he stiletto gold heels tapped softly while she walked.

Her entire outfit, if it could even be called that, was made of mostly gold and the occasional silvery blue as a contrast. Her bra secured only by thin golden straps on her lean shoulders had lace embroidered on the front, silver and blue sequins adorning the centre of each cup, forming a heart outline. Her shorts clung tightly to her body, a second skin, again gold material taking the lead, small writing in glitter was at the back of the shorts, but Obi-Wan was too far away to see what the letters spelled out. A slightly dark, extremely thin strip of material jutted out from the top of the shorts at the side of her hips, he was sure he and everyone else would find out how her underwear looked soon enough.

She looked around, slowed in her movements (or in Obi-Wan's mind she was) when she had tossed her head in his general direction, glancing behind her at a patron before her eyes skimmed the bar and landed on him.

He forgot how to breath, all oxygen sucked from his lungs and it was as if she was now the only source of the precious resource; he would have to spend his entire time taking her breath away so he could take his back, their lips moulded together as if only made for each other. She met his eyes, slowly blinked while she kept walking and then turned her head to face forward; not a minute had passed before she had walked into the back room Obi-Wan had seen earlier.

"Wow," Obi-Wan whispered to himself, unable to string a thought together until he heard a sharp laugh break the illusion around him.

"How did she not laugh at you?" The bartender snickered, pointing to him with her left hand. Obi-Wan looked down and groaned. His clean light blue button down now contained a stain that covered the right side of his chest and seeped downward. His belt looped in his jeans stopped any liquid from going further luckily.

The girl had seemed to take some pity on him after laughing, handing him a handful of scrunched up paper towels to get some of the moisture out from his shirt. Obi-Wan had noticed two extra glasses that were drained of their contents where he had been sitting.

'_Great!_' He dabbed at the wet patch on his chest, face lightly tinged. '_She thinks you're a drunken embarrassment._'

"Fuck, I'm an embarrassment!" Louder than what he had intended, but Obi-Wan meant the statement. Maybe skip the embarrassing stories to Anakin when they caught up.

"At least she looked at you."

"I didn't imagine that?" Obi-Wan questioned, an eyebrow raised as he binned the used paper towels. The bartender shook her head.

"No, you should feel lucky," she proceeded to clear the glasses Obi-Wan had obliviously drunk. "She hasn't said a word to me in the six months I've work here."

"That's her loss then," Obi-Wan flashed a genuine smile. "You do seem like a lovely young lady. And that's not just the drinks talking."

"How old are you, anyway?" She paused in wiping down the counter of the bar. "Shit, that was inappropriate of me!" Obi-Wan chuckled in response.

"Thirty, I feel like I should just stop counting at this point." He quipped, the bartender tried not to laugh.

"Not that you would care then," the rag in her hand was folder neatly to her right hand side. "But since you shared, I'm 21."

"Around the same age as my brother, then." Obi-Wan mused. It seemed like Anakin might get along with this girl, they were both very talkative it seemed. "How are you only just old enough to drink and in a place like this for six months?"

She shrugged. "My dad is pretty close with the owner, managed to get me a job here."

Obi-Wan widened his eyes, realisation kicking in after a few hazy seconds. "You actually know who runs this place?" The girl shook her head.

"No, my dad does." Her eyes narrowed. "Why, what's the sudden interest in ownership?"

"Like to know how this place got to be so successful." Obi-Wan scanned his eyes over the open space, patrons now crowding near the stage. "Probably living it up big."

"Living the dream." The girl mumbled, her words drowned out by a new song playing over the speakers. The announcer, wherever he was in the club, had announced the royal arrival of the club's Main Attraction.

Let the show begin!

Bow down to the Queen!


End file.
